


Gardens of Asgard

by bellafarallones



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-05-17 18:49:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafarallones/pseuds/bellafarallones
Summary: Asgard was built like someone’s fantasy: soaring ceilings, luscious gardens, brick walkways shaded by fruit trees which were fragrant in spring and dripped with sweet fruit through the summer. Odin’s fantasy, Thor supposed. He could only hope that Loki would like it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [What Makes a Marriage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090848) by [KitCat_Italica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitCat_Italica/pseuds/KitCat_Italica). 



> This work was inspired by What Makes A Marriage, which I highly recommend reading. I couldn't stop thinking about it and ended up writing my own version - which really has very little in common with the original except the arranged marriage and Odin being an asshole. Needless to say, mine is much less angsty. Anyway, thank you KitCat_Italica for writing such an amazing fic!

Thor was standing in front of the throne, thinking of which tavern he’d go to this evening. He had recently slept with one of the barmaids at his favorite place, and if she was working tonight her affections might interfere with his ability to seduce someone else. But the ale there really was superior… should he risk it?

“In order to secure the peace treaty with Laufey, I have promised you in marriage to his youngest son,” said Odin.

“You  _ what? _ ”

“It was your mother’s idea.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Well, not  _ precisely  _ her idea, but she does encourage me to solve my problems with love instead of war. Would you rather have more of our people and theirs die in pointless battles? Maybe even yourself? It is far better to have a member of their royal family here as a bargaining chip… and Laufey thinks that if I misbehave, his son will be able to assassinate at least you.” 

“Alright, when is this happening?”

“I only received the letter that Laufey had agreed to my terms today. The date of their party’s arrival is a week from today.”

Thor ran a hand through his hair. “Are you sure he won’t settle for one of my cousins?” Thor honestly wasn’t expecting his father to be serious. Odin had told him last month that he couldn’t come to council meetings dripping sweat after four hours of training without showering in between, and had that changed anything? No.

“Thor. As your father, I am ordering you to accept this.”

“Alright, alright, I’m getting married.” Thor supposed having a week to adjust to the idea of wedlock was better than no time at all. 

“I have heard that he is a runt by Jotun standards, and perhaps Laufey intends to insult us by offering such stock,” said Odin, leaning forward slightly on his throne. “But do not be offended. Would you prefer to have a twelve-foot frost giant in your bed or one half that size?”

Thor’s mental image of his future husband suddenly shrank. Still horned and blue-skinned, but now able to stand comfortably in rooms other than the great hall. Oh, right, and marriage implied some kind of  _ bed.  _ “The shorter one. But hey, he’s getting his own rooms, right? We’ll have just met!”

“Fine. But you must keep him happy, Thor, and at least somewhat in line. No letting him destroy the palace, rape courtiers, et cetera et cetera.”

“I will. What’s his name?”

“Oh, his name?” Odin picked a piece of paper off the arm of his throne and scanned it. “His name, his name… Loki.”

“Loki,” repeated Thor. “May I leave, father?”

“You may as well, unless you have any more opinions about your own wedding. I’ll be spending the next week planning as big of a party as I can manage.”

“I can’t wait,” called Thor over his shoulder.

The corridor outside was blessedly empty. Asgard was built like someone’s fantasy: soaring ceilings, luscious gardens, brick walkways shaded by fruit trees which were fragrant in spring and dripped with sweet fruit through the summer. Odin’s fantasy, Thor supposed. He could only hope that Loki would like it.

The next week was essentially an extended bachelor party, days and nights slipping together lubricated by alcohol. Thor got drunk, visited the last few strip clubs he hadn’t gotten around to exploring, and avoided telling anyone why he was so loath to be sober. Tables large enough to seat ice giants had been put up in the dining room, and the columns holding up the roof were strung with ice-blue garlands. 

And the morning of the Jotuns’ arrival finally dawned. Thor put on his full ceremonial armor. Odin had instructed him to meet at the end of the Bifrost just before dinnertime, and he wasn’t about to attract attention by disobeying. However, Odin seemed to be in no condition to notice presence or absence. The landing of the Bifrost was packed with courtiers and advisors and curious citizens, and several men who Thor recognized as former soldiers. How must they feel about welcoming their enemies into their home?

The hoard quieted when the Jotuns actually appeared at the end of the rainbow bridge. It was much easier to like them when they weren’t appearing in a horde over the crest of an icy hill, screams as sharp as their blades. King Laufey looked almost regal in all his furs, although Thor thought he must be sweltering in them in balmy Asgard. It took a few moments for the party to get far enough towards the Aesir to say anything.

“Odin,” said Laufey. “And Prince Thor.” He groped behind him for a moment and pulled a young man in front of him. “My son, Loki.”

Thor’s vision of his future husband changed again. Now he had a face, and a very attractive one. Smooth blue skin stretched over delicate cheek and jaw. Red eyes glittered like the very lowest embers of a fire. Ash-black locks brushed his shoulders. Thor knew a lot about long, luscious hair, and Loki’s was  _ amazing.  _

Loki was tall by Asgardian standards and quite thin, when Thor mentally removed the thick fur cloak. He held his head high and seemed unwilling to meet Thor’s eye. Thor stepped forward. “It is good to meet you at last.”

Loki gave up a small smile. “Likewise.”

“The feast is ready; I am sure you are ready to eat after having travelled so far,” said Odin. Thor could almost feel his father’s nervous eyes on his back.  _ Don’t fuck this one up, son, or you’re going to be the first one sent into battle to die. _

Thor offered his arm. “I have saved you a seat beside me at the high table.”

“Okay.” Loki stared for a moment before awkwardly putting his arm in Thor’s. Cold black leather touched Thor’s bare skin. 

At least with the noise of the hall neither would be pressured to make conversation as they followed Odin and Laufey between tables filled with Aesir. A separate table had been prepared for most of the Jotun entourage, ostensibly because they were accustomed to different food, but really because Odin knew better than to risk seating a man next to his brother’s killer. And due to their height.

When they finally reached the table at the front of the room, Thor pulled Loki’s chair out for him, but only got a cold look in return. He hadn’t quite known what to expect from the Jotun prince, but arrogance was not it. Perhaps he would get a meek husband, perhaps a violent one. Norns knew the Jotuns were familiar enough with violence. But cold arrogance had not even crossed Thor’s mind.

He tried to avoid thinking about it. There was meat and ale in front of him, after all.

Platter after platter had arrived, been emptied, and replaced when Thor finally allowed himself to speak again to the man on his right. Loki had been sitting stiff as a board as the Aesir around him drank, having only picked at the food before him.

“Excuse me- are you alright?”

“I’m perfectly well. But I was wondering - how long do these feasts usually go on?”

“Oh, there’ll be people still here at dawn.”

Loki visibly slumped.

“But that’s not everyone! You’ve come a long way, and if you’d like to go to bed - I mean, to sleep, I’m not - you know what I mean. I’d be happy to show you to your rooms.”

“Lead the way, then,” said Loki, looking at a spot on the tapestry above Thor’s head.

“Do you hold your head high just to flatter your cheekbones?” said Thor in such a low voice that only Loki could hear him.

“I hold my head high because I am a prince.”

Thor didn’t try to offer his arm this time, just led Loki down along the fringe of the hall. Bad idea. The route took them past a particularly shitfaced table of Aesir, one of whom grabbed at Loki’s cloak. “Hey, is it true that you’re one of those he-shes? Are all Jotuns like that, or are you just deformed?”

Loki seemed unwilling to pull his cloak free for fear of tearing it, and Thor stepped forward. “Let go. That’s no way to speak to a prince of Asgard. Especially since I know you have business before Odin next week, and it’d be a real shame if I told him you were trash-talking our very valuable Jotun allies.”

The man turned red and dropped Loki’s cloak as if it was hot. Loki swept past Thor out the door. Thor had to hurry to catch up. “I’m sorry about what they said. They’re wrong to insult you.” 

“Of course they’re wrong.” Loki tossed his head. “I am  _ everything.  _ I learned long ago that when people are cruel, it’s because they are jealous. I am not deformed. I am man and woman both.”

“You’ve been assigned to the rooms next to mine. I guess my father wants us to get to know each other. But it does mean that I’m right here if you need anything.”

Loki drew in a rapid breath. “Are you to be my husband or my servant?”

Thor looked down at his feet. “Well, if I was forced to move away from the only home I’d ever known, I would want someone nearby to show me around.”

“You can’t know what it’s like.”

Thor bit his tongue. “Of course I don’t. But you realize this whole thing wasn’t my idea, right? Anyway, here we are.”

“Of course,” said Loki, and stepped past Thor to slam the door of his bedroom behind him.

Thor felt the sudden impulse to punch something. He didn’t like having doors slammed in his face. But he took a few deep breaths and then shouted through the wood - “Goodnight, Loki!” and then, more softly. “Breakfast will be downstairs at eight.”


	2. Chapter 2

Loki slumped back against the door and slowly sank down to the warm, sanded floorboards. Damn.

After his ears stopped ringing with the music of the banquet, he struggled to his feet and peeled off layers of tight leather to find his skin coated with a sheen of sweat. He’d have to hang all his clothing up inside out to get it to dry. This whole place was  _ sweltering.  _ One more reason the banquet had been insufferable. Food he wasn’t used to -how did these people not shrivel up with all their salted meat? - and air so hot it seemed solid. 

The black and green leather had been his summer clothes back in Jotunheim - or as much seasonal clothing as he had. The leisure budget of a third son was hardly a top priority, especially in wartime. Reason number one to be happy to be here: he would have the budget of a crown prince’s consort, not a runt of a third son. 

This room, for example. Even by the light of the moon he could see the intricate carvings of nature scenes on the posts of his bed, the luxurious variety of blankets and huge, plush pillows, and desk with books, paper, and pens on it. Things he wouldn’t have been allowed back in Jotunheim. 

Loki fell back nude onto the bed. At least the sheets were cool cotton. Then another thought occurred to him - he had no idea where his luggage was. And all the clothes he’d worn on the journey were dirty anyway. There was a wardrobe near the bed, which turned out to be full of Asgardian clothing. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to go naked.

Thor. Maybe Thor  _ wanted  _ him naked. His first impression of Thor was to think he must be some kind of sexual degenerate, with half his skin bare as it had been at the feast. In Loki’s experience, a much better strategy was to leave the exact contour of one’s biceps to the imagination. But maybe he was just dressing for the weather. Would  _ Loki  _ have to dress like that? He shuddered at the thought. Discomfort would be more endurable than bad fashion.

No, no, he didn’t have to think about his husband until morning at least. The sparse collection of books on the desk was a more pressing concern. Turning his head he could make out the titles stamped in gold on the spines.  _ A History of Asgard. Fungi of the Nine Realms. Heartstrings Tugged. Marooned on Midgard: A Memoir. _

Well, at least the Aesir weren’t totally illiterate, even though Thor had looked like he might have been. Those muscles were so pumped up that his head couldn’t have been full of anything but air. 

Loki got off the bed and examined the books more closely. They seemed to be recent publications. Expensive hardcovers, too. Were books cheaper here than in Jotunheim? Quite possibly. Loki couldn’t see any other reason for the housekeepers of Asgard to allow such things to a Jotun interloper. If they cared so little, perhaps he could get away with selling them once he’d read them. Twenty-five for the history, if it turned out to be well-researched, twelve for the memoir? That much could easily translate into a couple of meals. Or some better clothing.

But that was what he could have gotten in  _ Jotunheim.  _ Calculations were fruitless, Loki reminded himself. He didn’t know anything about the economy of Asgard.

Thor. Loki was not expecting the crown prince of Asgard to be good-looking. There weren’t too many blondes back in Jotunheim. At least the man with whom he’d spend the rest of his life was easy on the eyes, however idiotic he might be. A lot of Loki’s future happiness would depend on his goodwill. Unfortunately, Thor hadn’t seemed too interested. He hadn’t dragged Loki into his room with him or ravished him against the wall in a dark hallway, which called Loki’s plan to control his husband with sexual wiles into serious question.

Had his father been right? Should he have been a woman with an extra protrusion rather than a man with an extra hole? King Laufey had always warned that Loki needed to use his gender flexibility to his advantage.

Reason number two to be grateful to be here: he wouldn’t have to listen to King Laufey telling the story of his birth at dinner parties. His father had taken great pleasure in doing so, describing Loki’s genitalia in detail and making him blush with shame. He could do nothing but try not to listen and remind himself that it was probably born of jealousy, jealousy that Loki could do anything and be anything and nobody else could. “When it was born,” Laufey said, waving his glass around, “my wife said ‘is it a boy or a girl?’ and the midwife just went-” here he raised his voice two octaves “‘- _ uhh _ …’”

Laufey had declared the child a girl, since after two sons he needed someone to marry off for political advantage, so Loki wore his hair long, sat with his knees pressed together, and learned to sew. Then puberty. 

He hadn’t produced breasts, unfortunately, and Laufey was forced to concede that his initial hope had been wrong. However, as the long war had proven, the king of the Jotuns was terrible at accepting defeat. On went the corsets and the speech lessons where Loki stuffed his voice up into his nose to avoid sounding like a man. 

He cocooned himself in the sheets, unable to bear the idea of dressing again. Nobody in Asgard knew about any of it, which meant Loki didn’t have to think about it either. They definitely knew  _ what  _ he was, though. Even the lowliest feasters knew. Why had Thor defended him? If Thor took an insult to his husband as an insult to himself, it could make Loki’s life much easier. Did he think Laufey cared? Hopefully he wouldn’t realize how dispensable Loki was anytime soon.

It occurred to him that, in all likelihood, neither the books nor the clothes were for him. This room’s previous occupant had probably left them behind by accident, and in a few days they’d be back for them, and something very bad would happen to Loki if he wore or used them himself. But he put the thought out of his mind, and soon sleep crept into the soft bed and carried him off.

Loki awoke with sunlight streaming through the window. He blinked in the brightness and realized that this was not a window at all, but a set of glass doors leading out to a balcony. The books were more interesting than a view of the Asgardian countryside, however. He’d seen plenty of countryside on the journey here. So he climbed out of bed and sat down on the chair in front of the desk, which was cool against his bare skin, a blessing as the sun heated the air again.

A knock on the door, Thor’s voice. “Loki? Are you awake?”

Loki turned towards the door, spreading his thighs slightly in case Thor came in. “Yes. But what am I supposed to wear? I never received my luggage.”

“Oh, sorry, are there no clothes in the wardrobe? Or are they not your size? Or do you not like them? I’m so sorry, I’m sure I can find your luggage, or get something else-”

“The stuff in the wardrobe is for me?”

“Uh, yeah, your dad said-”

“Nevermind. Give me a minute and I’ll be right out.”

Loki leaped up, threw open the doors to the wardrobe, and grabbed something at random, which turned out to be red and silky. He already had the door open and was gazing into Thor’s eyes when he realized that his arms were totally uncovered, and his neckline plunged low enough to confirm that puberty had indeed not given him breasts.

“Uh,” said Thor. “You look good.”

Loki tugged on the shirt, but to cover one shoulder he had to further expose the other. “Thanks.”

“Did you sleep well?” Thor offered his arm, but retracted it quickly when Loki did not take it. They started down to breakfast a respectful distance apart.

“I did, actually. Thank you for such a well-furnished room.”

“Of course, of course. You deserve to be comfortable.”

Deserve. There was no  _ deserve.  _ He needed to be  _ useful. _ “Thank you. If I may ask, what are your plans for the day?”

Thor scratched his head. On any other man, the gesture would have been apeish, but here Loki just wanted to run his hands through that long blond hair. “I was thinking I could show you around the palace, if you were interested. What do you like to do for fun at home?”

“I like to read.”

“Oh, then you’ll love our library!” Thor’s smile brightened the empty corridor more than 

“A library? Like a bookstore in the castle?”

“Well, you don’t have to buy the books. They belong to everyone.”

“So they’re  _ free?” _

“Sort of. You can borrow them and read them for free, but then you have to return them so other people can read them too.”

“Oh. And I’m allowed to borrow them?”

“Anyone in Asgard can borrow them. Does Jotunheim not have public libraries?”

Loki shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about the deficiencies of his upbringing. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Spar. Lift weights. Games.”

Loki nodded. He knew about fighting; it was what his brothers did. “How do you like to spar?”

“Well, I’ve got my hammer. But I try not to be too reliant on one style.”

Of course Loki had asked the wrong question. He was silent for the rest of the walk down to breakfast so as not to offend his husband further. 


	3. Chapter 3

Frigga, like anyone with such a gorgeous garden must, spent a lot of time pruning. Thor found her after breakfast assessing rosebushes with a critical eye and a sharp pair of clippers. The bushes had been persuaded by centuries of careful breeding to produce multicolored blossoms that were almost too large for their stems, and required careful attention not to succumb to every passing fungus. 

Thor settled down on a monochrome lawn chair and clutched the cushion to his chest. It was a gesture of weakness, admission that he had expected to be holding a husband by now, that he wouldn’t have allowed himself in front of anyone else. “Good morning, Mother.”

“Good morning,” she said without looking up. “How is your… does he prefer to be called husband?”

Thor thought back to the things he’d heard about Loki. Loki, out of all the clothes in his room, had chosen something that was essentially a dress. “I don’t know.”

“That might be something to ask.”

“Will do. Speaking of husbands, how did Father get you to like him?”

Frigga turned around to look at him. “My son, there is no  _ getting  _ anyone to like you. All you can do is show Loki the best of you, and respect however he responds.”

“All solid relationships are built on mutual respect,” Thor recited.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to teach you.” Frigga set aside her clippers and sat down next to him. “You’re a nice boy. I’m sure Loki will come around.”

“Does  _ everyone  _ know he hates me?”

“You’ve been moping.”

Thor rubbed a hand through his hair. He had been. After had Loki had left, he had done what he always did when he felt sad or confused - worked out - until he was almost crying of exhaustion. If only persistence and hard work could produce a loving husband as easily as it produced muscles.

“Please have sympathy for him,” continued Frigga. “You may not be blissful yourself, but I know firsthand how difficult it is to be married to a crown prince and then a king.”

“How is it difficult? You get all of the status and luxury with none of the work.”

“Your status depends entirely on something out of your own control: your husband’s ability to make good decisions.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Now, your father has been very good to me through the years, and I can’t complain. And I wish you good luck. Marriages are often more pleasant if the partners are on speaking terms.” Frigga spun the clippers between her fingers, a flash of silver in the morning sun even more brilliant than her roses. “But remember that whatever Loki thinks of you, you are a good man, you can be a good king, and I love you.”

Thor waited for the blades to stop moving before he hugged her. “I love you too.”

Wondering whether being an unrepentant mama’s boy showed admirable sensitivity or pathetic childishness, Thor made his way back up three flights of stairs to his own room, planning to do push-ups in isolation where the rest of the realm couldn’t see him mope. But he paused at Loki’s door. Even though his hopes for conversation were not high, the idea of seeing Loki’s delicate face again enticed him enough to knock. “Loki? It’s Thor.”

No response. Thor didn’t doubt Loki was here - if  _ he _ was in a palace full of hostile strangers, he certainly wouldn’t be wandering outside his bedroom.

“Yes?” came a shout from inside.

“Can we talk?”

Silence. 

“Please?”

The door slowly opened, revealing a dark room beyond. Only Loki’s green eyes reflected the light from the hallway. “Alright. Talk.” As he stepped out of the doorway, Thor could see that he’d changed into a much more masculine outfit.

“Uh.” Thor was as distracted as one who had suddenly emerged from a tunnel into a dazzling field of wildflowers. “Are you my husband, or my wife? Or just my spouse?”

“I can be whatever you like.” Loki tugged at his sleeve. “If these clothes do not please you, I can change. I only thought… because it was in my room… never mind.”

“No, no. I don’t care what you are. I mean I do care, but not in the sense of  _ minding  _ whatever identity you prefer. More in the sense of respecting your decisions. I’m sorry I didn’t ask before, but I had not fully realized the… uh. Circumstances.”

Loki looked Thor up and down. He was trying to make himself appear as small as possible, a technique that often worked whether the other person subconsciously saw him as less threatening or noticed what he was trying to do and found it endearing. 

“I suppose husband is the term I would most prefer.”

“Alright. Husband it is.” Thor risked a smile. “You do make a very handsome husband and I am honored to call you so.”

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“That was the most specific item on the agenda. I realized that I didn’t know and I thought I should probably ask while it was still on my mind. But now that I’ve got you here, I would be grateful for your company. In a non-specific, casual way.”

“You could show me around the palace if you wanted.”

“Yes!” Thor stood up straighter, now, remembering that he could make himself useful. He had knowledge of Asgard that Loki didn’t. “I can show you the library.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“It is not far. You are permitted to borrow as many books as you’d like, at any time, and I would be happy to help you carry them. Or I could find you a bag. Or I could provide a bag and then carry it myself.”

“What is the procedure for borrowing books?”

“You have to sign off with the librarian so she knows who has what. She’s really nice, you’ll like her. She’s…” Thor realized then how long it had been since he’d spoken to the librarian. “Really nice. You’re also welcome to sit in the library reading if you would prefer. We have comfortable chairs, tables, lamps, really everything...”

“I think I get the idea,” said Loki, but favored Thor with a smile. “Thank you.” His face was now the color of pale marble.

“Pardon me if I am tactless to bring it up, but you’re… less blue than you were yesterday.”

“I cast a glamor over myself. I thought it might be more comfortable for you to speak to someone who looked more like your own kind.” Loki looked around at the courtiers, who weren’t staring as much as they had the day before. “And I receive less unwanted attention this way.”

The library was cool and silent enough for Thor to hear Loki’s sharp intake of breath. This many books had a smell to them, the scent of old knowledge that inspired reverence in its devotees. Devotees like Loki, who was now running a gentle finger over so many leather spines. “If you wouldn’t mind staying,” he said softly. “I’d love to have someone to help me carry books.”

The time passed slowly for Thor. He tried to pick up a book himself, but quickly found himself distracted by Loki, whose peculiar look of concentration was nothing short of enchanting. Thor would do anything to be looked at like that. He even took pride in carrying a stack of books to Loki’s room before lunchtime, and tried valiantly to stay upbeat when Loki spent lunch with a book in a language Thor didn’t know propped open against a juice jug, to engrossed to notice what he was eating.

However, Loki got up from his bench at the same time Thor did, followed him up the stairs, and even preceded him into his own suite of rooms. Thor beamed. This was a new level of friendliness. He’d hoped that Loki would appreciate the effort he had taken in moving piles of sweat-soaked clothing and dirt-encrusted armor out of the main room.

They sat down together on a plush couch, after Loki took a moment to douse the fire and send the room into smoky chill, and Thor cleared his throat. Loki was looking at him. “I really enjoyed spending time with you today, but I figure I should bring it up sooner rather than later. This is according to the general rules of hereditary monarchy, not me, but we will eventually be required to produce an heir.”

Loki spread his legs almost imperceptibly and Thor suppressed a blush. “Which doesn’t mean we need to do anything! Well, do anything physical. With each other. We do need to do  _ something _ . I’ve thought about it and asked around, and there are several options. We could adopt an infant and hope it turns out to look something like us.”

“Thor,” said Loki. “I do want to birth my own child. Might make raising it feel more natural.”

“Oh. Okay. That’s fine too. I just didn’t want to presume. You will have to find a discreet lover, however, and hopefully one who… looks somewhat like me?”

“ _ Thor. _ I am married to the crown prince of Asgard. I would be foolish not to have your genes in my child.”

“Do you mean you’d like to -”

“I see how you’ve been looking at me. And you’ve been so nice. You have to want something for it.”

“I’m so sorry, Loki, I never meant to make you uncomfortable, I just never had much practice at suppressing myself. You see, usually people reciprocate. Me being the crown prince and all.”

“You don’t need to suppress yourself. I’m your  _ husband _ , and I promise I can reciprocate.” Loki leaned forwards and ran his fingers over Thor’s bicep. “You can use all your strength.”

Thor’s eyes went wide. “Are you propositioning me? Seriously?”

Suddenly Loki shrank into himself. “I don’t mean to impose.”

“No, no, Loki! If you want me - I think I might want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.” 

Loki smiled, took Thor’s hand, and pressed it to his lips. All the oxygen rushed out of Thor’s lungs as though he’d been struck, and he could do nothing but half-drag Loki to his feet and towards the bed to bend him backwards over it. Thor helped Loki out of the chair and pressed him towards the bed until he was bent backwards over it. He had said to use all his strength, after all, and if he wanted it rough, Thor could by all means provide. Previous lovers had reveled in a man who could pick them up with one arm and press them down.

Their lips met. Loki’s body was warm and supple, but something was wrong. Doubt pushed its way through Thor’s mental haze of excitement. Loki was stiff underneath him, and not in the nice way, and his fingers dug sharply into Thor’s shoulders. 

Thor pulled back. Loki started, his eyes wide. “What’s wrong? Am I doing okay?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? You don’t seem very enthusiastic.”

Loki frantically reached out a hand. “What do I need to do? Please, just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

Thor was backing away now. “Nothing! You don’t need to do anything for me! I thought you wanted…”

Loki curled up into a ball on the bed now, putting his face between his own thighs and crossing his hands over the back of his neck. Like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, Loki.”

“I could just bend over for you. You can do what you want to me. I just don’t think I can be much of an active participant.”

“Loki… you don’t owe me your body. You don’t owe me anything.”

“You said you wanted me more than anybody. Who am I to deny Prince Thor? Besides, I am your husband. I was sold to you like cattle.”

“Technically you were sold to my father and then passed on to me because he’s already married.” A pause. “Sorry, that doesn’t help. Look. Loki. I didn’t want this any more than you did. And I know I’m in a much easier position than you are, because this is my home and I’m among my people and going to be king one day - but you’re not my slave.”

“So I’m nothing to you.”

“What? No. You’re a person, a beautiful, handsome, intelligent person, who I respect very deeply.”

“Enough not to punish me if I don’t actually want to have sex with you?”

“Of course not. I would never punish you. Unless you tried to kill me, or my father, or something like that.”

“Good to know the bar is so low.”

“Only at the level of basic decency.”

\--

The night had reached an ungodly hour when the door to Thor’s bedroom swung open. The light of the hallway and the noises of a party going on for people who weren’t too sad about being spurned by their husbands roused him to stir weakly. Most of what he could make out was a slender silhouette. “Who is it?”

“Your beautiful husband,” said Loki in a loud whisper, closing the door behind him.

“Shit.” Thor was reaching for Mjolnir now, since he had both an agent of an enemy realm and a husband who might need defending in his bedroom and violence might be necessary in either case. “Loki?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. Look, I just drank so much ale I stopped minding the taste, and depending on how bad the hangover is I won’t ever do it again. So this might be the only chance we have.” He clambered drunkenly onto the bed, patted it until he found Thor’s legs, and straddled them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sex. Turns out, when I trust you not to punish me if I don’t have sex with you, having sex with you is actually pretty appealing.”

“Loki, you’re way too drunk to- mmph!”

Loki had collapsed down on top of Thor and was kissing him much more enthusiastically than he had the last time. “I’m too drunk to what now?” 

Thor’s hands settled on Loki’s narrow hips, half to keep him from falling over again and half because that’s where they’d wanted to be for weeks now.  “I don’t like this. Please, Loki, tell me what you really want.”

Loki rolled his hips. “I want you between my legs. I want your  _ mouth  _ between my legs _.  _ You want me so much? Show me. Worship me like I’m really your queen. Or your prince consort? Ah. Who cares?” Then he tossed his hair.

“Will you let me up to turn on the light?”

“Forget it.” Loki rubbed his hands together and produced a ball of gentle pink light that dripped off his fingers and hovered in the air above them. “Does that set the mood for you?”

“You can do  _ corporeal magic? _ ” 

Loki shrugged. Now he was pulling off his shirt. “I can’t fight, can’t fuck - this is my first time, by the way, so now you know why I’m so bad at it - so I figured I’d learn at least one useful skill.”

“It’s your first time?”

“You think King Laufey would ever give the child he planned to marry off for profit enough freedom to jeopardize a mint-condition uterus?”

“Fair. Honestly, my first time was more of a disaster than this.”

“Really? Even the God of Thunder?”

“I was sixteen. Thought it’d make me a man. Instead I just ended up a teenager with very sticky pants.”

“Hm.” Loki was still grinding insistently. Thor’s hard abs gave good friction.

“If you’re sure you’re okay with this, and keep in mind that you can stop me at any time, I could make you feel good. Put my mouth between your legs.”

Loki seized Thor’s hair and tugged his face downwards. “Take my pants off right now.”

It was certainly interesting, to make love in an oasis of pink light in the darkness. Without any expectation of gratification for himself beyond what would certainly be satisfying memory-fueled masturbation, Thor tried to focus on the abstraction of genitalia and what they could do. He wasn’t very successful. The pink light illuminated Loki like the best moments of sunrise, when the day was full of beauty and possibility. Soon enough, however he was limp and smiling vaguely in Thor’s arms.

“I know you’re not really drunk,” said Thor.

Loki suddenly tensed. “How did you know?”

“Well, I only just remembered that our alcohol doesn’t actually affect Jotuns, and I know you didn’t have any of your own brought in. Laufey wouldn’t want to risk you getting drunk and humiliating yourself. So why pretend?”

Loki squeezed Thor’s hand.

“Is it arrogant of me to hope that you wanted a convenient excuse to fall into my bed?”

“I would expect nothing less than arrogance from the golden prince. In truth, I’m still not entirely convinced you won’t throw me in a dungeon. But I figure I might as well have fun on the way out. Better than being wracked with anxiety about when you’ll lose patience with me.”

“If it helps, my father wouldn’t let me mistreat you. It would be political suicide to throw out the treaty we have with Jotunheim.”


	4. Chapter 4

Perhaps the most difficult part of spending a night in Thor’s bed was not stealing any of the gold combs and cologne bottles on the dresser. Loki could have gotten good money for them. But he was too scared of Thor to risk it, and instead restrained himself to taking food from meals, mostly fruit and baked goods wrapped in a napkin.

Day after day Loki scanned the tables for something nonperishable, but again and again he was disappointed. Cookies went stale after only a day. Just like the rest of his situation. Delightful at present, yes, but painfully transient. Thor could toss him aside at any time, whatever he said to the contrary, and Laufey wouldn’t care. Getting rid of his runt of a son had been a relief.

Loki’s next best idea to raise money was to go into town and sell some of his fine clothing, but that would probably raise suspicion. He didn’t want to imagine the trouble he’d get in if a police officer questioned the young man selling a tunic with the royal crest - a foreign prince caught stealing from the palace to enrich himself. Asgard’s legal system was more progressive than most, but Jotuns had far fewer rights than natives.

The stress only abated when he looked at Thor. When Loki had been younger and much more naïve, he hoped to be married to someone kind-hearted and attractive. A marriage bed with silk sheets and the warmth of love. Then he realized he’d be far better off with an older spouse, someone too weak to physically attack him and likely to die soon. He shouldn’t even hope for love.

“Loki,” said Thor after one dinner. “I’ve seen you taking muffins back to your room after the last three meals. What’s up?”

Loki shook his head. “I’m fine.” They were walking back together back to their respective rooms, and Loki was plagued by the stress of not knowing whether they were going to end up in the same room or not.

“Do you want me to show you where the kitchens are?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Loki didn’t want snacks between meals. Most of the time he ate whatever he took from one meal at the next. A chocolate-chip banana muffin, however, would serve as half a day’s decent sustenance should he be suddenly thrown out of the palace.

“Hm,” said Thor, allowing Loki ahead of him into a narrow stairwell. “Well, I was about to go to my own quarters to clean my armor, but if you would care to join me, your company would be a blessing.”

“Sure.” By this time, Loki had become quite accustomed to Thor’s plush couch. When they arrived, Loki settled down and stared into the fire, while Thor filled the room with the smell of metal polish.

All Loki could think about was money. He had received a small allowance back in Jotunheim, which he used to purchase clothing, although if he purchased anything immodest it would be soon ripped off him by force; food, when mealtimes became too hazardous to attend due to drunken brothers; and books, if by some miracle he had any money leftover. Here, however, he received nothing at all. No insurance. “Do you ever go shopping in town?”

“Not very often. Mostly because I don’t need anything. The food here is as good as anything you could buy outside, we have our own armory. Every book published in Asgard or imported from elsewhere is in our library.”

“So you don’t keep money?”

“Oh, yeah, I do. Here, do you want some?” Thor dug in his pockets and handed Loki a couple of coins. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before. You are my husband, after all. My fortune is yours and all that.”

Loki could tell just from touching them that they were gold, real gold, worth something in any of the nine realms. And he hadn’t had to steal it! “You have an allowance from your father?”

“Oh, no. Uh.” Thor looked suddenly sheepish. “I have a job.”

“You  _ what?” _

“At a martial arts place in town. I teach kids how to fight.”

Loki could have kicked himself. This prince wasn’t restricted to the castle; he could pursue whatever source of income he liked. And the image of him as a teacher, one small child hanging off each bicep as he flexed, came too easily to Loki’s mind. “Of course you do.”

“I’m going to assume that you’re only implying something nice, my dear husband.” Thor’s smile was reflected in the shining chestplate balanced on his knees.

“Could I get a job? Could you help me find one?”

“You don’t  _ need  _ one, Loki, you’re a Prince of Asgard! I do what I do because I genuinely enjoy it. If you want money, have some of mine.”

“I’d prefer to earn my own. I don’t want to owe you.”

“Loki,” said Thor again, unbearably gently. Just the way Thor always said his name was unbearable. He said it with love. And he had that look on his face again, like a man who had never before experienced true suffering and was uncomfortable with the suggestion that it existed. “I do want to help you. And I can probably do a better job if you tell me how you’re really feeling about things.”

Loki was really a terrible husband. Forcing Thor to take care of him, burning through patience unnecessarily fast. “I’m sorry.”

“How many thousands of years together lie ahead of us? You may as well be honest now and spare us both a lot of trouble.”

Thor fit the mold of that foolish first fantasy husband too well. Loki used to lie awake at night, imagining the gentle touch of a handsome man, safe in the embrace of strong arms. Maybe that’s why he resented Thor so. Too close to his own shameful fantasy, taunting him with what he wanted but could not have.

Sometimes at home one of his brothers had played a trick on him like this, pretended to offer him some fine wine or invite him to go hunting with them, but ended up handing him a glass of piss or shoving him off his horse. Surely Thor was going to pull the rug out too, one of these days.

But he  _ had  _ slept with Thor. And Thor had been gentle, and Thor was strong and attentive. Perhaps a fantasy life was possible. Maybe this whole thing was a plan by his father. Had he been too uppity in the weeks preceding his engagement? Had Laufey scoured the realms for the most appealing possible husband and bribed him to put his clever tongue to use and give Loki a taste of freedom before ripping it all away and reinforcing his miserable position?

No. That would be far too much effort for Laufey. Loki resigned himself to the thought that he’d gotten very, very lucky. Not that that was particularly comforting. The thing about luck was that it ran out quick. And so Loki stuffed his pockets with food.

“I don’t want to be left with nothing when I lose favor with you. Same reason I take food from meals. If I suddenly find myself on the street I don’t want to have nothing to eat.”

“I’m so sorry you’re scared. I do promise you, upon my honor as a warrior and Prince of Asgard, that I will do everything in my power to ensure that you keep all the comforts you deserve.” Silence. “Oh, why should my promises mean any more to you now than when we first stood together at the altar? If money will make you feel safer, I’ll help you find a job.”

“Thank you.”

“You do have so many skills. To teach your knowledge of magic or runes would be a public service.”

Right. His popularity as a Jotun was not high. Perhaps improving his reputation would be as valuable of a long-term investment as money. “I see.”

“You wouldn’t even have to leave the palace. To offer yourself as a tutor to the children of the court…”

“Would anyone have me?”

“I know that if I had children I would want no one to educate them but you.” Thor put the shield aside and stretched. “May I put my arm around you?”

“That would be nice.” Loki moved closer to him on the couch and allowed his thick bicep to settle around his shoulders. A fantasy husband wouldn’t have asked. A fantasy husband would know exactly what Loki wanted and give it to him. But this was not a fantasy. 

\--

It turned out that Thor knew a woman who wanted her daughter, for some reason, to learn Jotun runes. So Loki ended up at a table in the library with a stack of books and a very small girl. He had no idea how old she might be; presumably an Aesir aged differently than a Jotun did. “Mummy said you were blue,” she said by way of introduction.

At least children were honest. The adults of Asgard just stared. “I used to be.”

“Why aren’t you anymore?”

“I decided not to be.”

“Why? Can you show me what you look like blue?”

Loki flipped open the first grammar book on the stack. He was supposed to be teaching her how to read Jotun runes. “If you pay close attention and work hard today, yes, I’ll show you when our lesson is over.”

“Okay!”

“Now, Jotunheim uses the same alphabet as you’re used to, so it’s just a matter of learning new words and new grammar.”

“When can I start reading stories?”

Loki thought for a moment. He had learned to read the languages of nine realms with books such as these, and by and large they were pretty dry. The first three chapters were mostly charts of noun and verb forms. If he wanted his pupil to enjoy this enough to continue his own employment, he’d have to make it interesting. “Today. I’ll write you a story now and you can translate it.” He was limited to only one type of noun, and simple present tense verbs, but if he wasn’t good at working within constraints, what skill did he have? On a scrap of paper he wrote  _ Lena sits under a tree. _

“That’s me!” The girl recognized her name, at least.

“Yep. This is a story about you.” Then, below the sentence, he wrote out each of the Jotun words again alongside their Asgardian definition. “Can you tell me what else it says?”

“Tree… under… sits Lena. Lena sits under a tree?”

“Yes, very good. The word order is a little different from what you’re used to, but especially with sentences like these, you can figure it out without knowing all the rules.”

Thus went the rest of the hour. Lena sat under a tree, ran in a field, and ate bread. Lena loved her mother and her father, and her mother and father loved her. At five minutes to four, she looked up at the clock. “You said you would show me your blue self.”

“So I did.” Loki folded the sheets of paper they’d used together and passed them to her. “It would be a great help if you would spend some studying this, so you remember everything next time. If not we will move on much more slowly.”

“I promise I’ll study them. Blue?”

“Alright, fine.” The glamor fell away, rather more quickly than Loki intended. He wanted to change slowly, slowly enough to change back if Lena started looking horrified, but the glamor had been in place for too long and his natural appearance was desperate to be seen.

“Eek!” she said softly, taking a few steps back. Then, “Wow.”

Loki’s red eyes glittered as he smiled. His skin was deep blue, horns rose up from his forehead, and the eyes of a child who had never fought in the war between Asgard and Jotunheim held more wonder than hatred. “Would you cast a glamor if you looked like this?” he said.

“Maybe so I didn’t scare my dog.”

Loki sat down again and restacked the books. “I’m sure your dog would love you no matter what you looked like.”

Lena’s mother appeared between the stacks then, and her daughter ran to her. “Loki taught me to read a story about myself!”

“Sounds fun,” she said. “Thank you, Prince Loki.” Then she started counting money onto the table, more money than he could have gotten even for selling Thor’s gold combs.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all my experience learning another language as a native english speaker is high school latin im so sorry to anyone who is offended by my lack of knowledge


End file.
